


Sick Day

by starsandsupernovae



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, I just put everything I wanted to see in here, Long Hair Spencer Reid, M/M, New Relationship, Sick Spencer Reid, Sickfic, Spencer Reid plays piano just for Em, This is self indulgent fluff, but like it's a fever he's fine, that's all, this is just a soft happy sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25538086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandsupernovae/pseuds/starsandsupernovae
Summary: Spencer Reid gets sick. Derek Morgan takes care of him, and braids his hair. That's it that's the fic.
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Comments: 16
Kudos: 270





	Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Y'all i'm posting this and I haven't finished my next Puzzle Piece chapter yet I'm sorry jalkdfjlk;asdfjkl but I hope you love this, please please let me know what you think!

  
It started on the way home from a case. Nothing big, just a little chill. Spencer’s first thought was that there was something wrong with the heat on the jet but looking around, no one else seemed to be bothered. Rossi was usually the first one to comment when the temperature was too low, generally something about how he gave up luxurious retirement to work and give the bureau the benefits of his service not to freeze to death on a government jet. 

Prentiss would follow this up with a question of when exactly they were going to receive these benefits, earning her a dry glare from him but a rare chuckle from Hotch. 

But now there was a comfortable silence on the plane, everyone who wasn’t asleep engaged in some quiet activity. JJ was already getting started on her paperwork, Rossi was doing a crossword which Spencer had been banned from helping with, and Prentiss and Hotch had both dozed off. Spencer glanced over at Morgan, sitting across the table from him. He seemed to be asleep, headphones on, but if anything, he seemed warm, he had taken off his jacket which Spencer knew he was loath to do and lain it on the seat next to him, leaving him in a tight-fitting v neck which Spencer at least appreciated. 

He was proven wrong, though, when he got up and took a thin blanket from a drawer beneath the coffee supplies and returned. Morgan wasn’t sleeping, as Spencer sat back down he opened his eyes and lifted his headphones.

“You alright there, pretty boy?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Just a little cold.” Spencer answered, wrapping the blanket around himself. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Almost was.” Morgan took off his headphones, pausing something on his phone. “Trying to listen to a lecture on one of the BAU’s cold cases but this guy might know everything except how to talk to an audience. Not to mention he keeps on about the same details for twenty minutes at a time. We get it, the guy left an unidentified partial print, he may not have been as prepared as you thought.”

He rolled his eyes with annoyance at people who didn’t know how to discuss cases in general and this specific person in particular. 

“This is the Birmingham case?” Spencer asked. “We profiled the unsub had died, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, I guess it doesn’t really matter.” Morgan turned off his phone. “Just thought it might be interesting.”

Spencer pulled the blanket tighter and Morgan frowned. 

“You know, it’s really not that cold in here.” He said, giving Spencer a worried look.

“Feels like it is.” Spencer said.

“Here.” Morgan reached over and picked up his jacket, tossing it lightly over the table where it landed in   
Spencer’s lap, surprisingly heavy.

Normally Spencer would have protested, it would be way too big on him, and besides, wearing Morgan’s jacket didn’t exactly fit in with how they’d agreed to keep their new relationship under wraps with the rest of the team. But he was cold, the blanket wasn’t doing much and he could feel the beginnings of a headache.

“Thanks.” He said instead, and put it on. It enveloped him, the extra weight surrounding him comfortingly. It smelled like Morgan too, an odd mixture of pine, gunpowder, and Old Spice that somehow worked.

Spencer looked up to see Morgan’s wide smile as he took in Spencer swallowed up in his jacket.

“Looks good on you.” He said and it was Spencer’s turn to roll his eyes.

“It’s too big on me.” 

“Didn’t say it fit.” Morgan smiled wider leaning across the table. “Said it looked good on you. You look pretty wearing my clothes, genius.”

Spencer blushed slightly, casting a quick look around the jet.

“Morgan. Work hours.” He said reproachfully, and Morgan sat back, folding his arms. 

“You know, Garcia and I say much worse every day.” He pointed out.

“We are aware.” Spencer said, prompting a laugh from Morgan and Spencer couldn’t keep a straight face against that laugh, it was an impossibility. 

So, he didn’t think much of the chill, or even the headache that stayed, low level but consistent, all the way home. Morgan had allowed, no, insisted, he take the jacket home with him, telling him he’d pick it up next time he was over. 

It was the next day that Spencer really started feeling miserable. Three cups of coffee and his headache was still there, pulsing against his skull. And he couldn’t quite decide if he was too hot, or too cold, or both, his body compromising by both shivering and sweating. 

It was JJ who noticed first as she walked by his desk on her way to her office.

“Spence? Can I just get your opinion on this, quickly? What percentage of women we question about—”

She cut herself off when he looked up, and she saw him, hunched over, shivering slightly.

“Are you okay? You look terrible.”

“Thanks.” He gave her a little half grin, which did nothing to change her worried expression.

“You know what I mean. Are you sure you should be here? Someone can cover your paperwork if you need, you know.”

“I’m fine.” Spencer said, a sentiment that probably would have worked better if he had said it without wiping sweat from his heated forehead.

“Okay.” JJ was unconvinced but she let it go, and Spencer tried to turn back to his file. 

Not that he was making much progress. He found himself reading the same sentence three times, the words entering his mind but not quite computing. Shaking his head, he got up to head to the kitchen area. His mouth was uncomfortably dry, and he knew he needed to drink, hot tea maybe. He was so cold, more then anything, more then the bone deep ache and the pounding head pain it was the cold that wouldn’t let him think. 

He reached up for his mug, the large one with the chemical formula for caffeine emblazoned in bright pink, a gift from Garcia. It was just too far in the cabinet and he nudged it forward to grab it, the sound of the ceramic scraping along the wood grating in his ears, too loud, everything was too loud now. With unsteady hands he finally managed to retrieve it, only to drop it when he heard Morgan from behind him.

“Morning, kid.” 

He was already bracing himself for the inevitable crash when Morgan’s hand shot out, catching it before it could hit the ground. He placed it on the counter, looking Spencer up and down.

“I don’t think coffee is going to fix this one.” He said, and Spencer scowled.

“Tea, actually. And I don’t need fixing. I’m fine, I’m just cold.” He said, turning away in search of the tea. There was the black tea that Rossi drank but no one else liked that one, the rest had to be here somewhere. 

Before he could find it, Morgan was right behind him, his hand going up to feel Spencer’s forehead. It was cool and despite himself, and his shivering, Spencer couldn’t help leaning into the touch for a moment.

“No wonder you’re cold, you’re burning up.” Morgan said, turning his hand to brush his hair out of his flushed face. 

“I’m fine.” Spencer repeated, pulling away. He didn’t need to be taken care of; he was still capable of doing his job. 

“You’re sick, Doctor Reid.” Morgan answered. “You shouldn’t be here. JJ was right.”

So, it had been JJ then. Spencer filed that particular betrayal away for later. 

“JJ worries too much.” He said, finally retrieving the tea. Raspberry green. He could do worse.

“Uh uh.” Morgan plucked the box out of his hands. “No way. You need sleep, not more caffeine.”

“You know, compared to my regular caffeine consumption, the caffeine contained in the tea is quite small, and besides, green tea contains L-theanine as well as caffeine which actually can make you more relaxed as well as focused which will help me work. It’s a different kind of ‘buzz’ from coffee.” Spencer folded his arms, leaning against the counter.

“Sure, that sounds helpful if you were gonna go back to work now.”

“Which I am.” Spencer cut in quickly.

“Which you are not.” Morgan countered. “You’re sick. I’m taking you home.”

“What? I have work left to do, you have work left to do, we can’t just leave at 10:27 in the morning.”

“Wanna bet?” 

Spencer sighed. He had to admit, he wasn’t getting any work done.

“Alright, I’ll take what I can home, do it there. But you don’t need to take me, I’m fine on the metro by myself.”

“So you can spread whatever you’ve got to the entire general population? Come one, just let me drive you. I’ll slip Prentiss some of my files, she’ll be fine.”

“But Hotch—”

“Hotch doesn’t want you here sick. And he’ll be okay with me taking a day, he’ll have to be.”

Taking a day? It didn’t take that long to drive to Spencer’s apartment and back. But running out of arguments, and, more importantly, the willpower to refuse what he definitely wanted Spencer nodded.

“Come on then.” Morgan put the tea back. “Get your bag, but leave the files. They’re not going anywhere. I promise.”

With a weak smile Spencer followed him out the kitchen and went to grab his satchel while Morgan went to explain the situation to Hotch. He did slip in a few of his files, unwilling to admit he wouldn’t get any of them done before leaving. 

He fell asleep on the drive back. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but when he woke up, they were parked, Morgan’s hand gentle on his shoulder.

“Come on, pretty boy, let’s get you to a proper bed.”

Spencer blinked up at him, confused.

“Let’s?” he repeated slowly. His headache was full force now, and he was so cold, absolutely freezing. 

“Well, I’m not just going to leave you here.”

“You don’t need to…” Spencer trailed off as he got up out of the car, head spinning as he steadied himself on the side.

“Seems like I do, actually.” Morgan walked over to help, but Spencer waved him away, waiting a moment until he could stand and walk on his own. 

“I’m fine.” Spencer insisted, as they made their way up to his apartment. 

“You gotta stop saying that. It’s okay not to be fine sometimes, Spencer.” Morgan said and Spencer would never tire of hearing his name on those lips, in the moments when they were alone and could be as they wanted.

When they actually got inside Spencer felt compelled to apologize for the state of his place, not having had time to prepare. It wasn’t that it was disorganized, the opposite really, Spencer knew exactly where everything was and everything had its place. But that didn’t necessarily make for the neatest presentation, the stack of books with makeshift bookmarks peeking out by the couch, the folder with his sheet music lying open atop his keyboard seat, the small blanket that had ended up on the table where Spencer had been sitting, wrapped in it, while reading. 

“It’s a little messy.” Spencer frowned, moving to put his books back, but Morgan, no, Derek, stopped him. 

“It’s fine. Please, leave it. Come to bed.” 

Spencer moved slowly, in part from reluctance, and in part from the ache that was now permeating his body, thick and heavy. Derek waited patiently, and Spencer was grateful for that, that he let him move on his own, at his pace, instead of offering to help again. Spencer ended up lying down, fully clothed, only kicking off his shoes before curling beneath his weighted blanket, the warmth and heaviness enormously comforting. 

“You sure you don’t want to get into anything more comfortable?” Derek asked, sitting on the bed next to him.

“No.” Spencer answered, eyes already fluttering closed. Derek had been right, he needed sleep. 

“What do you want now?” Derek asked softly. “Should I leave so you can rest?”

“No!” Spencer opened his eyes again, the word coming out a little too forcefully. His vision blurred slightly but he focused in on Derek’s face, his kind brown eyes. 

“Stay with me?” he asked. “If you can? I sleep better with you here.”

“Sure. I’ll stay.” Derek lay down next to him, and Spencer pulled him under the blanket, close, so Derek could hold him properly, so Spencer could curl up into his warmth.

“I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to, baby boy.” he said, and Spencer fell asleep while Derek traced small circles on his back, holding him close. 

It took Spencer a moment to orient himself when he finally woke again. He was alone in bed, almost fully clothed, late afternoon sunlight making its way through the cracks in his curtains, a delectable smell wafting in from the kitchen. And he still felt like shit.

His head was the worst, like someone was trying to claw their way out of his skull. The rest of his body lined up to present their own complaints to him as he woke, various aches and pains. He changed, peeling off his wrinkled clothing, and replacing them with an old cal-tech hoodie and soft leggings, appreciating the feeling of the cloth clinging to his legs, before leaving his room to investigate the scent. 

He found Derek in the kitchen, putting away ingredients while steam rose from a pot on the stove, most of which Spencer was sure he hadn’t had that morning. 

“Derek?” Spencer asked and he turned around, a smile growing as he took Spencer in.

“Hey. How’re you feeling?”

Spencer paused a moment, considering. 

“Not great. Better since I slept though.”

“That’s good.” Derek nodded, crossing the room and felt Spencer’s forehead before moving to push Spencer’s hair behind his ear. 

“What’s in the pot?” Spencer asked before he could say anything. He knew the fever was still there, could feel it.

“Chicken soup. My momma’s recipe, so you know it’s gonna be good.” 

“I appreciate it, but I’m not really hungry.” Spencer said, frowning.

“I know, but you have to eat. And besides, it’ll help. This soup has cured me many times over.”

Spencer considered pointing out that it wasn’t the soup that cured him although the vitamins, antioxidants and protein may have helped but opted not to. 

“Will you just try some when it’s ready?” Derek asked “For me?”

“That’s not fair.” Spencer answered. He couldn’t say no to that.

“Until then, you should really be drinking.” Derek filled a glass and handed it to Spencer who now sat on the counter, criss crossing his legs. 

“Do you want to go back to bed while it cooks?” 

Spencer shook his head slowly, sipping the water. 

“I brought home some files; I might take a look at them.” He said.

“Spencer please. Leave work alone. I’m not sure how to break this to you,” Derek said, “But you are sick. Even   
super smart genius boys are allowed to take breaks when they’re sick.”

“Super smart genius boys?” Spencer repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yep.” Derek leaned forward and kissed his heated forehead. “That’s you. Drink your water.” 

Spencer rolled his eyes, but listened.

“Hey, if you don’t want to go back to sleep, how about that documentary you wanted to watch? About the   
penguins? We could watch that together.”

“I thought you don’t do nature documentaries?” Spencer formed the air quotes with one hand, glass in the other.

Derek shrugged.

“What can I say? That was a long time ago. I’m a changed man.”

“That was three weeks and two days ago.” 

“Well I may have watched the trailer you sent, and the baby penguins are kind of cute.” Derek admitted.   
“Besides it’s not about me today. You’re the sick one.”

Spencer opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was an embarrassingly high surprised squeak when 

Derek just lifted him bodily from the kitchen counter and carried him to the couch, where he was dropped unceremoniously.

“Derek!” 

“Yes? That’s me.” Derek looked down at him innocently and Spencer had to laugh, his pain ignored for a moment. But only a moment. It was still very much there when he adjusted his position, curling into himself for warmth. 

“You cold, baby?” Derek asked, as Spencer wrapped his arms around himself.

“Just a little.” Spencer admitted.

“Give me a moment.” Derek said and disappeared while Spencer pulled up the documentary he had had on his list for a while.

Derek returned with a blanket, wrapping it around Spencer before sitting next to him on the couch. 

“We watching the penguins then?”

“Only if you want to.” Spencer answered.

“Let’s do it.”

Spencer knew he started the film sitting upright against the corner of the couch. He wasn’t quite sure when he   
started moving but by the time, they were halfway through, he was lying down, head in Derek’s lap while he played with Spencer’s hair.

“Are you, uh, is that a braid?” Spencer reached up to feel what Derek was doing with his hair.

“Just wanted to keep it out of your face.” Derek said. “I can stop if you’d like.”

“No, it’s okay.” Spencer said. He’d never braided his hair before, but it wasn’t like he was going anywhere, no one else would be seeing him. No one but Derek who was currently gently combing through his loose curls with his fingers before adding to the braid.

He waited until Derek paused the documentary to check on the soup to go and look in the mirror. He still looked sick, his face was flushed and dewy with sweat, despite his nap it looked like he hadn’t slept. But Spencer’s eyes were drawn to the French braid that held his hair up, a few strands escaping to frame his face. 

“Spencer? Soup’s ready.” Derek called. “Where’d you go?” 

Spencer returned, to the couch to find Derek carrying a steaming mug waiting for him, spoon peeking out of the top.

“You said you’d try it.” Derek said. “I thought it’d be easier to hold this way.”

“Actually, I don’t think I ever did.” Spencer pointed out.

“Oh, come on. You gotta eat something, you haven’t all day.”

Spencer sat back and took it reluctantly. Despite his protests, after taking a small spoonful he realized he was actually very hungry. And the soup was flavorful, and warm, and good. He took another spoonful, and then another. Derek smiled before going to get some of his own.

“I told you.” 

“It’s not bad.” Spencer admitted.

“Not bad?” Derek shook his head in mock offense, hand over his heart. “Pretty boy, this soup is the Morgan family secret potion. It’s amazing, is what it is.”

“Alright.” Spencer gave in. “It’s amazing.”

“I know.” Derek ignored his own spoon, taking a long sip from the mug itself before unpausing the film. On screen the baby penguin waddled over the ice to its mother and Spencer noticed Derek seemed to be more interested then he would like to pretend to be. 

“I have more.” Spencer said after it was finished, on his third mug of soup. 

“About penguins?”

“No other penguins. But there’s a fascinating one about jellyfish. You know that there’s an immortal species of jellyfish? They can reverse the aging process. They’re the only animal who can do that.” 

“I did not know that.” Derek answered. “Didn’t know you were so interested in animals.”

Spencer shrugged.

“They’re interesting. And the documentaries are really visually appealing.”

“Alright. Let’s learn about jellyfish.” Derek said, and Spencer pulled it up before sitting back against Derek. 

They stayed like that as the sun went down, and another sea life documentary followed the jellyfish one, until Spencer woke up to find the credits rolling and Derek trying to gently move him off the couch, presumably to go to bed.

“I’m not sleepy.” He said, sleepily.

Derek just looked at him until he clarified.

“I don’t need to go to bed yet. I just closed my eyes for a minute, you don’t need to leave yet.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Overnight? Can you?” Spencer didn’t feel all the pain of earlier, although he was a bit lightheaded. 

“I have my go bag in the car. I can stay as long as you want.” He kissed Spencer on the tip of his nose, laughing   
when his face scrunched up.

“Let’s get you to bed and then I’ll join you. Let me take care you, baby.” 

Spencer nodded, holding Derek’s hand until they reached his bedroom and he fell into bed. He was still sleepy   
when Derek returned, ready to join him, but not quite ready to sleep.

“Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll get you sick?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. I don’t get sick easily.” Derek responded, wrapping Spencer in his arms.

“You can’t know that.”

“I’m not worried. Either I’ll be fine, or maybe, just maybe I’ll get sick. If so, I know a wonderful doctor I can   
call.” He said, one hand slowly tracing nonsensical lines down Spencer’s back. 

“I’m not that kind of doctor.” Spencer pointed out.

“That’s okay. I bet you can still take care of me.”

“None of my doctorates cover anything to do with this.” He continued.

“Okay. Let me restate. I know a wonderful, caring, smart boyfriend who I can call. See? Perfectly qualified.” 

Spencer smiled but said,

“I’d still make you see a medical doctor. At least one.”

Derek laughed, a soft low chuckle. 

“Alright, non medical doctor. If I get sick, you can call the shots. But until then, let me take care of you.”

Spencer closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of falling asleep in Derek’s arms.

“You already have.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know if you want a part two where Derek gets sick.


End file.
